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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992138">I'm Begging For You To Take My Hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperxcrowns/pseuds/paperxcrowns'>paperxcrowns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson is Robin, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romani Dick Grayson, Single Parent Bruce Wayne, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, We all have issues, and that's valid, and yes, congrats to me for writing a fic that's more fluff than angst for once, he has issues but he still loves dick, the title is yet again a taylor swift lyric, there's a very good chance of that, this whole series might just consist of taylor swift lyrics as titles, what an achievement</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:13:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperxcrowns/pseuds/paperxcrowns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick loves being held, and it turns out that people like holding him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diana (Wonder Woman) &amp; Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson &amp; Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson &amp; Clark Kent, Dick Grayson &amp; Justice League</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>382</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'm Begging For You To Take My Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i am proudly ignoring all my other unfinished series and fics and creating yet a new series :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It seemed ironic that Dick’s parents died by falling and that Dick would die by sinking. </p><p>He struggled against the bruising grip of Two-Face’s lackeys as they dragged him from the back of the van right up until they tipped him over the edge of the bridge. He started screaming for Batman, for help, for anyone, through the rag stuffed in his mouth and taped over.</p><p>“Two-Face sends his regards,” one of them hissed in his ear before shoving him over the edge.</p><p>Dick tumbled and fell with a soft gasp. Somehow he hadn’t frozen, and instead frantically worked at the knot tying his wrists back, body weightless. </p><p>The real issue would be the dumbbell the men had handcuffed to Dick’s ankle that would inevitably drag him further down into the water. </p><p>Dick hit the water feet-first and a jarring shock tremored through his body. He screamed when he heard a wet snap and felt his leg burn with agony. A second later, he was completely submerged in freezing, polluted water, and sinking at an alarming rate.</p><p>He struggled viciously, regretting not taking the time to inhale deeply. He could only hold his breath underwater for four minutes at the most. The ropes finally came loose and Dick quickly brushed them off his wrists and attempted swimming towards the surface.</p><p>The ankle handcuffed to the weight had broken where Dick had assumed it was only fractured, and the pain made his vision go dark for a few seconds. He blinked spots out of his eyes. Okay, new plan. He bent over and tried desperately to free himself of the handcuff, sinking further and further down into the murky depths of Gotham Harbor. He struggled harder, his lungs burning, his frantic fingers not doing much to unlock the cuff at this point rather than simply tug at it uselessly.</p><p>He sank so deep the sunlight that lit up the polluted waters a pale brown vanished and a metal band tightened around his chest, constricting his lungs. He saw bubbles escape past his lips and float up, his vision dimming slightly. His lungs were burning and spasming, screaming for oxygen. </p><p>Dick saw a dark shape make its way towards him, blocking out the remaining rays of sunlight. His struggling became more sluggish and his brain felt filled with cotton balls.</p><p>His eyes snapped open when the pressure on his broken leg vanished, and a renewed wave of pain washed over him. He opened his mouth to scream and instead got a lungful of salty water. He gagged and closed his mouth, but it was already too late. </p><p>His vision dimmed and his mind spun when he felt himself get propelled towards the surface. </p><p>He broke the surface and cold air immediately rushed over him as he coughed up the dirty water he’d swallowed.</p><p>“I’ve got you,” someone said. “I’ve got you, Robin.”</p><p>Dick was too exhausted to reply anything, just kept coughing up his lungs and curls into the person holding him. It felt nice, to have someone hold him. It was nice and warm and <em> safe. </em></p><p>“Can you try to stay awake for me, chum?” </p><p>Dick hummed, his face tilted into the chest of the person, his cheek scraping against rough Kevlar, but he didn’t mind all that much. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He must have faded for a few seconds, because the next time he came to, he was in the Batcave, in the medbay, still shivering.</p><p>His limbs were sore and his head was heavy. He blinked and looking around.</p><p>It was relatively empty of any signs of life. Bruce was sitting in a chair, his head pillowed into his arms, and one of his hands holding Dick’s loosely, but his breathing was even.</p><p>Dick stirred and Bruce shot upright almost immediately, startling Dick.</p><p>Bruce looked around blearily until he saw Dick, awake and alive, and he visibly relaxed.</p><p>“Dick,” he said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”</p><p>Dick huffed a laugh. “Me too.” His voice was scratchy and cracked halfway through.</p><p>He cleared his throat to chase away the itchiness. Bruce automatically grabbed a water bottle, twisting off the cap before handing it to Dick.</p><p>“What happened?” he asked, his head falling back onto the pillow, his eyes slipping shut.</p><p>He heard Bruce sigh heavily. That didn’t sound very good. “Some of Two-Face’s men managed to capture you, and your comm and tracker were both offline, I--”</p><p>Bruce faltered and Dick silently tugged Bruce’s hand closer, letting the man understand Dick’s wordless request. It didn’t take long for Dick to feel Bruce’s large arms wrap around his small frame and he smiled.</p><p>“A street camera on the bridge we were monitoring picked you up just as they--” Bruce trailed off when Dick stiffened, his hands tightening on the soft fabric of Bruce’s cashmere sweater. “I got there as fast as I could. You were--” Dick felt more than heard Bruce’s chest hitch with emotion. “I was so scared,” he confessed softly.</p><p>Dick was too tired to say anything, just curled further into Bruce. “I’m okay now,” he mumbled.</p><p>Bruce laughed softly. “Yes. You are.”</p><p>Dick was safe and warm, and he wasn’t drowning anymore. He was being held in Bruce’s arms and everything felt right.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dick let out a martyred sigh. “Alfred, I promise you! Bruce will catch anything I throw at him!”</p><p>Alfred gave Dick a stern look. “Master Dick, I must strongly advise you against throwing objects at Master Bruce.”</p><p>Dick was sitting on the counter watching Alfred make breakfast since it was early on a Saturday and Dick didn’t like the cartoons that passed on TV in the morning. He preferred the afternoon shows. Especially Adventure Time. Bruce was still asleep, and hopefully would be for the next few hours. He had a lot of sleep to catch up on.</p><p>Dick laughed. “I already threw stuff at him, Alfred,” he said as if it should have been obvious.</p><p>It technically should’ve. How else would he have known that Bruce caught stuff? Sure, it had been an accident when the basketball had bounced off the metal rim of the hoop and headed straight for Bruce, but he had caught it. It had surprised Dick since Bruce had been sitting in a lawn chair reading a book.</p><p>Dick tried again. He threw his coat at Bruce when he came home instead of hanging it. Bruce had been walking by and had caught it easily. And he caught the water bottle Dick had thrown at him. And the pack of gummy worms. And the scented candle. And his backpack.</p><p>It had escalated to ridiculous levels and Bruce would only glance up in annoyance and tell Dick to stop throwing stuff around the house.</p><p>He had to prove his theory. His biology teacher had told them that. You have to recreate an experiment to prove that it’s real.</p><p>“And I’m not talking about throwing objects,” Dick added, watching the hash browns sizzle in the pan.</p><p>Alfred looked up at Dick, raising a gray eyebrow.</p><p>Dick wasn’t planning on throwing anything at Bruce. No, this time, he would be throwing himself. Launching himself directly into Bruce’s arms. </p><p>Before Alfred could question what Dick meant, there was the sound of shuffling footsteps from the hall. </p><p>The two exchanged exasperated looks; why could Bruce never listen to their demands that he get a full nine hours of sleep at least once? </p><p>Dick hopped off the counter, grinning to himself. </p><p>“Good morning, Master Bruce,” Alfred greeted Bruce when he walked through the door and into the kitchen.</p><p>He looked like hell, though Dick didn’t blame him. The animal trafficking case had been a tough one. It had taken almost two weeks for Bruce to get a break in the case and he’d stayed well after he’d sent Dick back to the Manor to finish helping the police send the exotic animals to a sanctuary just outside of Gotham. </p><p>Though Dick was sure that an eleven-year-old throwing himself into his arms would definitely wake him up.</p><p>He ran at Bruce, barely seeing the way his eyes widened before he lept up at him. Bruce stumbled back, his arms reaching out reflexively and catching Dick bridal style. Bruce stumbled a few steps and bumped into a wall, eyes wide in surprise and slight panic, his legs wobbling a bit.</p><p>Dick’s grin widened before he burst into laughter.</p><p>“You should see your face,” he gasped out between peals of laughter.</p><p>“Dick,” Bruce said in a quiet voice, meeting Dick’s eyes. “<em> Never </em> do that again.”</p><p>Dick laughed even harder, his stomach cramping up.</p><p>“Master Dick,” Alfred said, and Dick turned his head to look at him. “I highly suggest you cease such nonsense.”</p><p>Dick grinned. “Aw, but Alfie this is too much fun.”</p><p>Bruce shook his head and Alfred simply went back to making breakfast, a small smile gracing his lips and Dick felt proud.</p><p>“Are you going to get down?” Bruce asked.</p><p>Dick pursed his lips in thought. “If you’re strong enough to catch me, you’re strong enough to carry me, too.”</p><p>He was half-joking and definitely expecting Bruce to just set him down, but to Dick’s surprise, Bruce just huffed.</p><p>“Alfred, would you mind making coffee?” he asked. “My arms are a little occupied.”</p><p>Alfre glanced up. “It is no problem, Master Bruce,” he said with a smile.</p><p>Dick rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder with a self-satisfied smirk.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In hindsight, Bruce probably shouldn’t have carried Dick around that morning.</p><p>Because in the past few months, Dick had taken to launching himself into Bruce’s arms at any given time, and latch on like a koala for a few hours. </p><p>Dick was fairly certain that Bruce didn’t mind. He was even under the sneaking suspicion that Bruce actually enjoyed carrying Dick around all day.</p><p>Dick knew that he loved it. </p><p>Whenever he saw Bruce, he would just jump into his arms, sometimes ordering him to take him to the kitchen or the living room, and sometimes just let Bruce do his own thing with Dick cradled in his arms.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bruce didn’t take Dick to the Justice League Watchtower until he was twelve years old, and eight months away from turning thirteen. </p><p>Not that Dick had narrowed the date down just to complain to Bruce.</p><p>The Watchtower had been <em>amazing. </em> It was like when Dick begged Bruce to take him to work during spring break and would just spin around in an office chair and walk down halls and past offices, except much more exciting. He already knew Superman, since Bruce and Clark were friends, but he hadn’t met any of the other Justice League members outside of fighting together on occasion.</p><p>Dick had been <em>starstruck. </em></p><p>And all the Justice League members had loved him, which still had Dick reeling. Because apparently, Bruce <em>talked about him to his colleagues. </em> They were all excited to finally meet the “famous Robin they’d heard so much about”. It was nothing like the socialites pinching his cheeks and laughing shrilly, saying “we’ve heard so much about you”. For one, they sounded genuine. For another, they were <em>superheroes. </em></p><p>Though he’d mostly stayed by Bruce’s side the entire time of the meeting and was growing a bit bored at the formality and monotony of it. Sure, they probably didn’t think it was boring, but Dick was very bored, even if they were talking about saving the world.</p><p>He had already snuck out of the room and gone around the Watchtower, opening every door and peeking inside. He’d even had the time to find the kitchen and steal an energy bar from a glass bowl filled with them before sneaking back only to see the superheroes <em>still </em>talking. </p><p>Except. </p><p>Bruce had stood up at some point to talk more clearly.</p><p>Dick grinned. He knew it was probably a bad idea to interrupt an important discussion, but really, Bruce wouldn’t mind all that much. Maybe</p><p>And with that, Dick ran up at Bruce, who glanced at the sudden movement and froze when he saw Dick charge at him.</p><p>Dick jumped, intent on Batman catching him, but was surprised to find that he’d stopped moving. In midair. </p><p>He squeaked and turned to see that Superman had caught him mid-jump.</p><p>“What were you doing?” he asked incredulously.</p><p>Dick opened his mouth but didn’t know how to explain it in the least embarrassing way possible.</p><p>He gazed at the floor. “I like it when Br-Batman catches me.”</p><p>He quickly glanced at Batman to see him both surprised and a little bit annoyed. Superman just looked surprised, eyes comically wide and blinking owlishly.</p><p>“So it’s common for you to just jump into Batman’s arms?” he asked, slowly sinking back down to the ground.</p><p>Dick huffed. “Yeah,” he said. “He always catches things I throw at him. He would’ve caught me.”</p><p>Superman finally seemed to snap out of his stupor. He shook his head, amused. “I don’t doubt it.”</p><p>Dick was slightly disappointed when Superman landed but didn’t make any movement to wriggle out of his grasp like Clark had clearly expected. Dick grinned up at Superman. </p><p>“You caught me,” he said. “And now you have to hold me. That’s the rule.”</p><p>Superman floundered. “We have to--”</p><p>Dick looked at him seriously. “You’re the Justice League. You can’t break the rules.”</p><p>Batman laughed at that. “He’s got you there.” </p><p>Everyone was staring at Bruce with wide eyes, which Dick didn’t really understand. Bruce laughed all the time. </p><p>Though Batman didn’t laugh as much. It made sense the others were surprised, now. They probably didn’t hear Batman laugh at all </p><p>“Can we--” Bruce made a vague gesture. “We still have things to do today.”</p><p>Superman blinked, looked down at Dick, and then back up at Bruce. Bruce raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“This is fine, Superman,” he said. “Robin likes being carried.”</p><p>Superman still looked incredibly confused, but sat down nonetheless, with Dick still in his arms. Dick didn’t mind. He just smiled and closed his eyes, very comfortably nestled in Superman’s arms. He could <em>definitely </em>get used to this.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>This had almost become the norm now. </p><p>Every time Bruce brought Dick to the Watchtower, a Justice League member would just grab hold of him without prompting and carry him around for a while before eventually setting him down.</p><p>Some had even turned it into a competition. Dick had seen Green Lantern and Flash make bets over who could carry Dick around the most.</p><p>Though Dick would never complain. He loved the physical affection he was receiving, and being carried around had its perks. The person carrying him would always ruffle his hair and he always got to float a few feet off the ground when Superman carried him.</p><p>His favorite had to be Superman and Wonder Woman. And that was because they could carry him for <em> hours </em>without breaking a sweat. Wonder Woman had once carried Dick around from the moment he and Bruce had stepped out of the zeta tubes and right up until Bruce had told him it was time to leave.</p><p>And Superman always flew around with Dick in his arms and that was both <em>fun </em>and <em>exhilarating</em>. Dick loved the feeling of flying. Even the feeling of levitating was completely new and different. </p><p>He hoped it would never end. It had been so long since this many people had paid this much attention to him-- it had to be at least since his circus days. His first few years with Bruce had been rather lonely and empty, with a distinct lack of physical affection that Dick had gotten used to back at Haly’s. With the Justice League, it was like the circus all over again, with everyone greeting him when he stepped off the zeta tube, ruffled his hair, patted him on the back, let him lean on them when they were sitting on the couch, or when they took turns carrying him around the Watchtower.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Both of Bruce’s legs had fallen asleep a half-hour ago, and his arms were starting to tingle irritatingly, a surefire sign that he would definitely be feeling this in the morning, but none of that would make him move. He was sitting on the couch, an eighties cartoon playing softly on the TV, with Dick in his arms, now soon to be fourteen years old. </p><p>He’d jumped into Bruce’s arms practically right after patrol, arms latching around his neck like a koala, and had let Bruce carry them both to one of the living rooms.</p><p>Patrol had been tough that night, with yet another Arkham breakout, and they’d spent a good part of their night hunting down Bane to send him right back. They’d been locked in a heated battle that had resulted in a mild concussion for Bruce and several broken ribs and a bruised windpipe for Dick. It had been an exhausting patrol and Bruce was definitely making them both take a few nights off to relax a little bit. </p><p>Maybe just because Bruce needed a while to get the image of his ward getting crushed into the ground by Bane out of his mind. Though he doubted it wouldn’t come back in future nightmares. </p><p>Dick had passed out from lack of oxygen when Bruce had finally managed to subdue Bane, and he’d rushed Dick home immediately.</p><p>He’d been so worried, and he’d almost cried in relief when Dick woke up and had immediately reached for Bruce. Bruce hadn’t even complained, he’d just picked him up and held him tight.</p><p>Alfred stepped into the living room, a silver tray in his hands where two steaming mugs and a bowl of chocolate-covered almonds sat. </p><p>“Shall I assume you will be spending the rest of the night here?” Alfred asked after setting the tray down.</p><p>Bruce smiled in gratitude. “Yes, Alfred. I don’t think I really want to attempt climbing the stairs. Thank you for the tea.”</p><p>Alfred smiled. “Make sure you at least get a few hours of rest, Master Bruce. Not even you can survive without sleep forever.”</p><p>Bruce snorted. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could? But for now, he was content with holding a sleeping Dick and watching tacky eighties cartoons at four in the morning. What an odd time to play old reruns. </p><p>Bruce sighed, settling down into the couch and placing Dick on his chest, finally relieving the strain on his sore arms. Yep, he was definitely going to feel that in the morning. But that didn’t matter. Dick was safe, and that was all that mattered to Bruce.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>next one shot: jason gets carried by the Justice League. It does not go well.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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